8/31

Last day of the month, and it was my busiest day.  I didn't make it to the cabin until the sun was so low in the sky that birds were flying into it.

My mom asked me if I was still going to the cabin (she's going up this weekend and doesn't want to find that I left, I dunno, used toilet paper all over the place or something), and I told her I was, and she said, "Why?  It's so late."  And I tried to explain to her that I had this deadline on this book, and I HAD to edit, and she said, "But why all the way up there?  You can edit here," and I told her, No, I can't.  And I'll explain it to you like I explained it to her.  Editing audio is so mind-numbing, so exhaustingly dull and vampiric to the soul, that I will do literally anything to get out of it--like shoveling gravel, or reading, or eating junkfood, or removing photos from my phone, or washing dishes, or exercising--and the fewer distractions I have the more work I'll get done.

But you should see me try to edit: I tell myself, Okay, I'll do just till I have the first five minutes done--just five minutes.  And eventually, I can get to that point.  And then I go, okay, now try to go to ten minutes . . . or just eight, you can do eight, right?  So I set this tiny, pathetic, limp-wristed little goal, and I can usually work toward it, and then I reward myself with a break, even if it's just getting a drink of water or taking a whizz, sometimes as significant as watching fifteen minutes of a movie or reading a chapter in one of the five books I've brought up with me.  And then, with that all-too-short respite finished, I go back to the editing (this time trying to get to the ten or fifteen minute mark in the chapter).

Fledgling is one of my favorite words.  I first heard it in SILENCE OF THE LAMBS, and never really hear it anymore.  Has there ever been a movie or song called that?  I'd like to write a story called that.*

I still did the run on the dam, but was coughing and wheezing even a half hour later while editing audio, so maybe I should . . . I dunno, either not exercise at all, or exercise way more?  Tomorrow starts a new month.  I think I'll set an exercise goal, see if I can't, maybe, exercise nearly every day of September, giving myself, say, one day a week to forget or be lazy.  We'll see.

Well, I told you my goal for the month was to write 3000 words, and I managed it.  All in all, my word count for August is 12,018.  Which is pretty close to three thousand, in a way.

Arcove or Exercise: Both

*But I never will.

8/30

Five times I woke up during the night to use the bathroom.  Five.

You'd think I lost a bet or something.

Last week, I signed up myself and my eleven year old nephew to work on a Hallmark Christmas movie, but was never contacted, so I forgot about it.  But this afternoon, they called me, and said we were booked.  Unfortunately, that means they want us to drive up there to the set (about an hour away) to take COVID tests tomorrow, which is when I normally go to the cabin.  But also, school is now going, so my nephew will be in school until the afternoon, so I'll have to wait until he gets out, then drive up there, then drive him back, then drive to the cabin, if I still feel like it.  We'll see.

I've sat here for a few minutes, and even though I've got a few words (327), my attention is starting to sag.  After all, I'm blogging now instead of writing.

I got 1019 words, which is real good.  For me, for you, it's ten minutes ago.

Arcove or Exercise: Arcove (and Writing)

8-29

Chunder.

A few years ago, I read a fairly-infuriating article about a woman who decided to drink a gallon of water a day for a month, blogging about her daily experiences as she went.  It was very interesting, at least until the eleventh day, when she killed her husband and children (and her rabbi, who happened to be stopping by to return a Jello mold).*  The article made such an impression on me that in 2020, I wrote an entire story about woman who does the same thing (more of a parody than a story).

I always meant to send Julie Hoverson the story and ask if she'd record it for me, but I never dared.  I also considered recording it myself and adding it to an audio collection as a bonus track, but never got around to it.**

From time to time, I think about the lady's experiment, and how she claimed the water-drinking changed her life.  But I would never repeat her efforts--as Captain Solo said, "I ain't crazy."

Except today, I thought, "Okay, one time I'll try it."  So I filled a container with water, and told myself to drink it down by the end of the night.

I marked in RED

where the water line is in each picture.

It's not a lot of water to look at, especially when you're spacing it out during the day.  And we've all heard that a person is SUPPOSED to drink a gallon of water in the course of a day.  And you might remember that bit on the news, where Miles Teller boasted that he drinks three liters of orangutan urine a day for cardiovascular reasons.  So, doing it once should be easy.

I drank a little bit, then went out to lunch, where I drank thirty-six ounces of Diet Dr. Pepper.  But that doesn't count.

I'll admit that I forgot about the water in the afternoon, and mistakenly drank another twenty ounces of ice water while driving around in my car . . . but not from the large plastic container that I chose for the purpose.

When I came home, and looked in the fridge to see the water jug still 3/4ths full, I knew I was in trouble.  But I said I'd do it, and I was sitting down to record audio, so I made myself chug some every page or two, knocking the levels down quickly.  And just as quickly, I'd have to head to the bathroom, which I think I've done five times today.

Eventually, at about 1:40am, I finished the container, and took one last picture.  I drank well beyond a gallon today (I didn't even mention the apple juice I drank when I woke up this morning), and thusfar, I haven't felt any murderous impulses.  

After reading this blog, you may not be able to say the same.

I only managed 117 words today.  But since I didn't get to the library like I usually do, I won't sweat it.

Arcove or Exercise: Arcove (and Writing-ish)

*Of course, this is a lie.  Just checking to see you were paying attention.

**I finally got around to it . . . in March of 2024.

Blog 8-28

The sound went out on my laptop this morning, so I guess I'll blog instead.  And after that, it's time to record my Patreon address for September.  This should be a good one, because I'm going to talk about that trailer that so effed with my head.

I did the stairs AND recorded "Arcove's Bright Side" . . . three chapters.  Yeah, I'm doing this.*

I did record my address (at least the first part of it), and wouldn't you know, it wasn't a good one after all.

Arcove or Exercise: Both

*At the same time, Big texted me to let me know how much he was struggling with writing, and instead of calling him up and challenging him to write then and there (or at least encouraging him), I called him a bundle of sticks and sent him a picture of the guy from Maroon 5 with his arm around Big's teenaged daughter.  Now that I write it out . . . I'm thinking that might have been the wrong thing to do.

Rish Outcast 228: Aloha Hatchling, Aloha Dunesteef

Rish talks about his book "Hatchling," which just came out.  And the last episode of the Dunesteef, which just came out.

Download the episode at THIS LINK.

Support me on Patreon HERE.

Logo by Gino "G'day Hatchling/Dunesteef" Moretto.

Do Kiwis say "G'day?"

8-26 & 8-27

I put more chapters of "Arcove's Bright Side" in the Dropbox, which brings my little meter to here:

8 / 52

Of course, what do I do when Abbie requests retakes?  Do I drop those off?  If so, this progress bar thing will lose a lot of its fun.

I managed 559 words at the library.  It's not a lot, but it's totally fine.  Heck, it IS a lot.  Next question.

I recorded the hardest chapter of the whole book tonight, which probably comes mid-way through, and even though it was difficult, maybe it'll be all downhill from this point on.

Arcove or Exercise: Arcove (and Writing)

8-27

I've been having a couple of sound problems while recording this past few days, and it turns out there's a short in the microphone cable where it's gotten frayed.  So I went to the store on Tuesday, looking for mic cables.  Then I went to another store.  No luck.  After that, I got online and ordered one from the web.  I didn't know how long I needed, but they ranged from thirty feet all the way to tiny, so I ordered a six foot one.

It came today, shipped in a little padded envelope.  But how could a six foot microphone cord fit in such a small envelope?  Well, it turns out that I ordered a six inch cable rather than six foot.  Fun.

I had an appointment at five-thirty today, so it meant I wouldn't be at the library when it closes at six, but I jetted over at four, just so I could work on something (this week, I'm organizing my story "The Case of the Missing Bracelet," which I wrote in September of last year, but I thought I'd include in a collection of Will Choner stories...and it's in rough shape.  It's about four thousand words long . . . and I think that's where it's supposed to be*).  I got almost no words, because I am undisciplined, but it occurred to me that I ought to count up all my words for the month (after all, I've been keeping track, if only to send them to Big each day), and see if I made my goal of 3000.

I did manage 379 words, which is not good, but technically doesn't qualify as bad either.

Also, I went for a run tonight, for the first time in a long while (I don't count the ones on Wednesday nights on the dam--those are just for self-punishment).

Arcove or Exercise or Writing: All Three

*It's also one of those stories that I don't really remember, except that I wrote it in Vegas, when we were there for my uncle's funeral.  There was a great deal of sitting around, waiting for the chance to be useful, and I filled it with this little inconsequential story.

Say Goodbye To The Dunesteef

Our final episode of the Dunesteef Audio Fiction Magazine, recorded and edited when Obama was in the White House, is now out there to listen to.  We made it back when the show was airing regularly, with many generous volunteers, giving us their time and editing skills and music and voices.  One day in the future, we knew, SOMETHING would happen to keep us from the show (whether boredom, apathy, the dissolution of our friendship, or the cheery possibility of death), and we wanted to have a final goodbye on the shelf, for when that day came.  And that day is here.

So, go to THIS LINK, if you like, and hear our goodbyes, as well as topical references to a young Katy Perry, and a middle-aged Third Eye Blind.

The Dunesteef Audio Fiction Magazine will live on in Big's solo podcast, my own various shows, and the odd episode of Clownpod, the only podcast entirely produced by mimes.  And don't forget, the Dunesteef isn't really dead, as long as we remember him.

8-24 & 8 -25 blog

8-24

I recorded Chapters 1 through 5 of "Arcove's Bright Side" on my regular Outcast SD card, and filled it up (each chapter usually takes close to a gig of memory in ultra-high quality audio), and started on one of the new cards Big gave me for my birthday, putting Chapters 7 through 16 on it.  When I finally finished editing the first five chapters, I . . . oh, go back and read the previous sentence again, and see if you can tell where I'm going with this.

You done?  Did you find it?  If not, don't worry about it, I'll explain.  There was no Chapter 6.  I finished editing Chapter 7, but realized I didn't have 6, so I went looking for the earlier SD card (assuming, logically, that I recorded six chapters on it, but only transferred off five).  I grabbed the SD card from the drawer where I found it looking for White-Out yesterday (yeah, I still use White-Out, every single day), and when I popped it into my laptop . . . it didn't have any "Arcove's Bright Side" recordings on it.  Instead, it had recordings from . . . 2020 and 2021.  What the heck?

I realized, in looking over those file names, that this was the SD card that I lost last year sometime, and being certain it was in my drawer, went searching for it, throwing out old ticket stubs and receipts, but not ever finding it.  It had indeed been in that drawer all the time.  It sucks that I lost it, but it was nice that I found it again.  And the first file that I transfered off it was the Rish Outcast episode I did last year, and then never was able to find, the one I dedicated to (the late) Big Anklevich, so that I could work on it in between chapters of Abbie's book up at the cabin.

And it gives me the chance to use my insanely culturally insensitive Short Round/Indy "Lost Episode" intro.  It's been a long time, offensive-to-today's-generation-but-totally-in-keeping-with-my-love-for-the-Eighties-character clip, it's been a long time.

I want to talk about the trailer for SMILE sometime, but not right now.  I also neglected to do my recording from the book from the library because once it got dark . . . it seemed like a foolish thing to do.  

In many ways, I feel a little bit like the Hulk (or more appropriately, like Bruce Banner), always having to be aware of my surroundings, lest I lose control and all hell breaks loose.  Well, maybe that's a bad analogy, but even without reading anything scary or talking about anything more frightening than mixing eggs with chili, I was envisioning silent, black-garbed figures standing in the cabin with me, or watching me from the other side of the window--you know, the usual overactive imagination junk, only a tiny bit stronger than it was last week or the week before.  Even as I type this, I can hear the wind blowing outside, and the sound it makes is way eerier than it ought to be.

I finally threw in a movie, and the one I chose (for some reason) was TRON 2.  I had never seen it.  Partly, it was because I had never particularly liked the first one (I saw it as an adult, and maybe that makes all the difference).  Also, I had heard that, except for Olivia Wilde, there was nothing good about TRON: GELACY, and I had already seen the horrific CG Jeff Bridges in the trailer, so I figured, why subject myself to that?

Well, the movie was pretty much exactly what I had been told.  The digital de-aging was absolutely the worst I've ever seen (even including the ghastly Princess Leia that ruins the ending of ROGUE ONE), and Olivia Wilde's face was perfectly symmetrical and even made that odd haircut look good.  

But it was both better than and worse than I expected it to be--the main actor, Garrett Headland, was so bland and unremarkable that I'd be surprised to hear he ever acted again (and I'll be sure to bring him up the next time somebody complains about the guy who played John Carter and Gambit [and the lead in BATTLESHIP]), and better--the music by Daft Punk was pretty darn cool, and the Jeff Bridges performance was nice, both in his human and unholy abomination roles.

Still, because I thought the 1982 TRON was so mediocre, it makes me wonder if I'd feel differently if I saw it again.  Uh oh.

Arcove or Exercise: Both

8-25

You may not believe it, but it's already started getting cool again up here.  It was in the sixties when I got here (despite being in the mid-nineties at home), and once the sun went down, when I drove to the dam to do my run, it was in the high fifties.  And at night, I actually considered building a fire (didn't do it, though).  

Once I realized it was in the forties outside and I had closed the one remaining open window, I decided I would make a fire.  Well, some things never change: I start a fire, and it went out almost immediately.  So, like the Russian space program that one-upped our million dollar zero-G pen, I simply put on a long-sleeved shirt--problem solved.

It is now three pm.  I've done a couple of menial tasks, eaten a dozen eggs (don't ask), and read another chapter in my super mediocre Houdini book while on the exercise bike, then took what was supposed to be a twenty minute nap (I even set an alarm), but wasn't.  And now I'm back to editing . . . and I realized I can't stand the sound of my voice.  Maybe that asshole "Bold Guys Sprint" writer was right in 2013.  Next week, my cousin is going to Disneyland with his family, so I could come up on Tuesday afternoon instead of Wednesday.  Maybe then I'll get a few more chapters done.*

I edited the last chapter of "But Now I'm Found," and it was eight minutes and fifty-four seconds.  The recording time on that chapter had been twenty-two minutes and forty-three seconds.  And I'm even more assiduous for Abbie's book.

Now it's raining again.  This summer started out with so much fear about droughts, and the hottest June on record . . . and now, every time I come up here, it's raining.  There was a ban on campfires way back at the start of the season, but when I passed the Fire Danger sign yesterday, it was all the way down to Light (down from Extreme, where it was a month ago).  And now the rain is pouring down fairly hard, with lots of fun thunder, which will prevent me from doing the recording I should have done yesterday.  But you can't predict these things.

Finished editing "But Now I'm Found," and all in all, it comes to two hours and forty minutes.  Not sure if that's good, but it is what it is.

Arcove or Exercise: Both

*Here's what producing audiobooks is like: You sit down with a good book, and perform it (at least until your voice gives out), and know that it's your calling, and you are truly alive--you are totally brilliant at doing this one thing, holy smoke, .  And then . . . you start to edit.  You hear every stammer, every mouth click, every time I shift in the chair, every time I get the words wrong, every time I can't say "Arcove hesitated" (which is a problem around fifty times), and soon, you realize that you are absolutely terrible at even this one thing, holy smoke.

8-23 Blog

In my audiobook reading, Abbie described one of Arcove's lines as being said, "in a voice like brooding thunder."  That took me a few takes, and then I decided I didn't know what it meant.  Sorry.  It's hard to decide how big to do some of these lines, especially when they are described as "exclaimed" or "growled" or "burst out."  But hey, hopefully my instincts are good.

I drove to the library in the next town, to check out the book that the story for the next Podcast That Dares Not Speak Its Name came from (I mentioned this the other day, but somehow, the edited version of the story became corrupted, and I had long since deleted the recording from back in November).  It was already checked out at the local library, but they had two copies at the next one, and I had been told that I could easily check out a book using my current library card (I had gotten a second library card in that town in 2007 or so, when I was working there, though I assumed--wrongly--that it had expired). 

There was a single librarian working (which just blows my mind, since there are usually three or four on duty at all times at mine), and she wouldn't take my hometown library card plus my driver's license as sufficient I.D. (she kept asking, "Do you have proof of address on your phone you could show me?" which I still can't quite get my head around).  What she wanted me to go back home, get a phone or utility bill, and bring it in to prove where I lived, and maybe I should have done that (I asked her if the envelope had to be unopened--I remember hearing that once from someone demanding proof of address--and she looked at me like I was being ridiculous), but instead, I went downstairs, got the book in question, and merely tore out the pages that I needed to do the recording.

Okay, that's a lie.  I just took pictures of those pages with my phone, but I still felt like I was committing some kind of espionage by doing so, hoping not to be seen by a teen library assistant or a security camera.

Later on, I went to my own library, and once again, my heart wasn't in my writing tonight.  I made the mistake of quoting a Jimi Hendrix song in my story, then went online to see if I'd gotten it right, then spent a while reading about the history of the song, then read about the songs he put out before that one.  Still, I had 515 words by the time the library wanted me to leave.*

For weeks, I'd been wanting to see Jordan Peele's new movie, NOPE, but things kept preventing it.  I told my cousin on Monday that I was going to go on Tuesday, so I didn't miss it, and to his credit, he said he'd go too (although I predicted we'd be the only two people in the audience, and it was still fairly full).  And even though I didn't like the movie (I'm not burying the lead, since I have so little time to blog tonight), I appreciated what Peele was doing, and that there was masterful skill involved.  But there were three stumbling blocks to my enjoying the movie:
1) There was a running 90's sitcom chimpanzee attack thread that I just couldn't understand (it was like it had been dropped in at random from another, unfinished movie),
2) I simply could not like the female lead, finding her loud and obnoxious and quite the opposite of sympathetic, and
3) there's a twist/conceit at the end of the film that just lost me, that I was unable to accept** or get past.  But ah well.

Arcove or Exercise or Writing: All Three

*Technically, they wanted me to leave from the first moment they saw me.  I need a haircut.

**His last movie, US, had a twist/conceit at the end too that I just found too ridiculous, and it lost me too, though not quite this badly; I was still able to enjoy US.

8-22

One of the saddest days of my life was . . . well, I guess it was when the fortune teller told me, "You will never marry, you will never have any children.  You will die, by your own hand . . . and soon," but a fairly sad day was when one of my listeners told me he'd found a bunch of errors in my audiobook on Audible, and (at that time), there was no way to take it down and fix them.*

As I start to give Abbie the finished audio, I'm well aware that nearly every chapter will have something (the chapters are just too long not to--except Chapters 6b and 7b, those were short) that I missed in it.

I finished a couple more today.  Which puts us at:

6 / 52

Wow, doesn't look like a lot, when you put it that way.

Today's another one of those days where I cannot, for the life of me, get myself to write anything.  I should be ashamed of myself.

But I'm not.  I'll see if I can manage 100 words.  If I can do that, it's still something.

Managed 209 words.  Then a few more.  When they kicked me out, I was at 621.  I'll take that.

Arcove or Exercise: Arcove (and Writing)

*There are now, but it's still a huge pain in the chonch. 

8-21

I woke up from a bad dream fairly early in the morning, which is interesting considering I didn't get to sleep last night until nearly five, and decided to do a load of laundry (my room smells like a homeless devil-worshiper's foulest sock) and get some "Arcove" editing done.  On Wednesday, I made a Macro in my editing program called Character Thought, that I can go to again and again (I wish there was a way to attach a keyboard shortcut to it), and it probably saves me, oh, a whole minute on each chapter.  That may not sound like much, but . . .

Come to think of it, it isn't much.  Darn.

I edited a bit with the line "proceeded to knead the air" and realized that in audio, I didn't really convey that it's "kneed" and not "need."  

Something Abbie does in this book is have character's remember things that others said to them earlier in the book, as part of their thoughts.  I need to not only put the Character Thought effect on them, but try to replicate how I said the line the first time.  I know it sounds like I'm complaining, but it's just part of doing something I know I'm good at, which means doing it right.  The audiobook I'm listening to now is so sub-par, where the narrator doesn't even distinguish between male and female voices, let alone Russian, American, and Chinese.

I did the stairs at the park again today, as well as jogging around the outside track.  When I got to the car, my face was bright red.  I must be doing something . . . right?

I have talked, in the past, about how one must be a real self-promoter in order to succeed in the creative arts (whether it's writing, acting, audiobook narrating, fingerpainting, or podcasting).  I met a dude the other day with a YouTube channel*, and he told me to check it out, sending me a Friend request on Facebook, then after I'd accepted, bombarded me with "Have you checked out my channel yet?" messages until I finally went there and watched him do his thing.  I think that kind of blatant disregard for tact and subtlety is what you need to get ahead in the arts, hence my complete lack of success in that arena.

Arcove or Exercise: Both

*He does John Leguizamo/Cthulu Mythos-related stop-motion clay animation with occasional funny digestive sound effects.

Podcast That Dares 35: August Heat

 Oh, my.  Quite by accident, Rish presents "August Heat," the creepy 1910 short story by W.F. Harvey.  Just make sure it doesn't happen again (links below should be fixed).

To download the file, Right-Click HERE.

To support me on Patreon, Left-Click HERE.

Logo by Gino "August Is Cold Here" Moretto.

Music was: Grand Dark Waltz Trio Vivace by Kevin MacLeod (https://incompetech.filmmusic.io/song/7924-grand-dark-waltz-trio-vivace)

8-19 & 8-20

8-19

Today, Big asked how much of "Balms & Sears" I had still to write.  I told him I was so close, I could have it done this week, if I wanted.  But immediately, I started to think up excuses NOT to finish the book.

I hit the library, with only an hour to spare, and barely got any writing done.  But Big Anklevich texted to tell me he'd only gotten 367 words, and I took that as a challenge.  I had to get more than that!

Unfortunately, while writing about Alec sitting up in the bed of a Days Inn, I stumbled upon my most thwarting word: bureau.  Try as I might, I could not spell it, and on my second try, the program simply auto-corrected it for me ("Thanks, Satan!").  Man, I am not a fan of that word.*

I only got in 584 words before they made their obnoxious announcement.  But that will have to do.

I did send Abbie the first two chapters of the book, but am stuck on Chapter 3 because of a line I'll have to redo.  Guess that puts us at:

4 / 52

According to Doctor Chunder, that puts me at 7.69% through the book (of course, I've recorded probably a third of it, averaging more than one chapter a day, but the editing is the truly hard part).

I drove over to my cousin's house, so we could watch PREY, the prequel to PREDATOR, which I'd heard such nice things about.  And yeah, it was quite good.  Not perfect, but hey, none of these movies have been.  It's an utter shame I didn't get to see this movie on the big screen, but whoever is running Fox these days thinks streaming numbers are more valuable than box office numbers, as opposed to the morons who left close to a billion dollars on the table by thinking streaming numbers were just as valuable as box office with recent Disney, Marvel, and Pixar films.

I wouldn't be surprised if it was the same person. 

Arcove or Exercise: Arcove (and Writing)

8-20

While preparing the next Podcast That Dares on Thursday, I got an error that the file was corrupted, and there were two sections of the story that were now silent.  Unfortunately, I recorded the story back in November, and returned the book to the library then, so I had no way of re-creating it that day.  It remains silent for now, but I reminded myself to go to the library, get the book again, take it to the cabin, re-record those two bits, edit them into the story, and have the episode done for September.  

But I forgot to check the book out again.

I spent a half hour or so editing the relines in for Abbie's book, and to my pleasant surprise, the audio was indistinguishable between the old recording and the new.  Always nice when that happens.**

I got only 462 words today, but ah well.  I got to the library late, and still wasted time on Wikipedia and reading about the weekend box office over on Deadline.com.  I should do better, as you know (Bob), but I could also do worse.

This afternoon, I took my nephew to the park, and on the way Kissing A Fool by George Michael came on the radio.  I didn't really remember the song (except that in March 2020, my uncle told me an anecdote about George Michael and his brother that suddenly makes it significant to me), but now, because of LAST CHRISTMAS, it's tainted.  Sigh.

I had a little bit of work to do, so I decided to watch the first episode of "Ozark" on Netflix.  Before I knew it, my work was done, I was scratching my grundle, and it was 4:14am, with one episode after another simply playing, outside of my control.

Arcove or Exercise: Arcove (and Writing)

*If you know of a synonym for "beareau," please tell it to me, so I never have to use it again.

**I'm reminded of some podcast that had me do a story for them, and then six months later, they asked for relines, and when I sent them in, they complained that the sound quality was different between the new lines and the old, and they wanted it done again.  A valid complaint, but still, eff those guys.

Goals For 2022 - August Update

I have not been nearly as good at keeping track of these goals this year as I did last or in 2020, but let's check in and see how I'm doing.

1.  Go on one hike a month.  I'm not sure I did a hike in June (I'm thinking back, and I dunno), but I did in July and I just did in August as well.  I'm not going to say I've blown this--though I probably have--but I'll keep trying to remember).

2.  Insert "Joanie Loves Chachi" reference into at least two stories.
I did once, then promptly forgot about it.  Maybe I can stick one in the dishwasher story (I threw in a random line about Ronnie Milsap the other day, then wasted twenty minutes reading about his life and career . . . that could easily have been Joanie/Chachi).

3.  Start up "Twilight Groan" again with Cathexis, at least four episodes.
This would have happened if it was going to happen.  My niece did bring her laptop over, though, and I saw it had a Rod Serling sticker on the front, so that's something.

4.  Plot out and start writing the third "Calling" story (and finish it?).
I still WANT to do this, but haven't gotten to it.

5.  Finish recording and publish "Hatchling."  
This is out, thank Buddha.*

6.  Put out Christmas collection I was supposed to put out in 2020.
I did edit another of those audio stories a month or three back, but soon it'll be time to start thinking about this again (especially if Big puts out his X-mas collection).

7.   Put out Audio collection I was supposed to put out in 2019.  This got done.  Now I need to start on Volume 5.

8.  Buy no more Transformers.  Darn, I was doing so well.  I bought one for Big Anklevich early in the year (never sent it to him, though, so I suppose I could return it), but then I bought two in August because they were supposedly rare.  Sorry.

9.  Finish "Balms & Sears" . . . in first quarter of 2022.
Well, that was just a stupid goal, because even if I finish it now (which I still haven't), I can't count it as succeeding at the first quarter part.

10.  Put out 10-12 Podcasts That Dare Not Speak Their Name.
I'm on track (I've got five so far, and am nearly done with the next one).  The most current one I'm editing had a recording of, get this: two and a half hours.  So I think we're going to get my first two-part Podcast That Dares.  Maybe I'll schedule them to drop in October/November, when I'm gone.

11.  Get Marvel Universe figures out of storage and get rid of them.
Done (though it doesn't matter, because they were already gone).

12.  Put out "Dead & Breakfast" collection 1.
What?  That?  It is something I could do, but where do I end it?  Should I just put out the stories that I have recorded and edited, and call that Volume One?  It would be the least work for me.

13.  Run on treadmill once a week.
Oh, balls.  Nope.  But I did get the exercise bike, and I've used that once a week.  I'm going to switch it up.

14.  Put out "Caller I.D." on the Outcast . . . birthday week?
That was done, though not quite on time.

15.  Finish Outpost Outbreak novel.
I don't even remember what that is.  I'm sure I wrote on it in January or February.

16.  Read another really great book.
I'm currently reading "The Bear and the Dragon" by Tom Clancy.  Maybe that will count.

*Or Bossk.  He had the same level of involvement.

8-18

I got some audio editing done today, but wow, my body simply did not WANT to be there, sitting, doing audio editing.  What's worse was, I found a couple of errors in the recording (including two or three--or five--spots where there was feedback in the microphone), but I couldn't simply run over and re-record those bits . . . I have to wait until I get home, then do so, and hope my performance matches (and I can find where to put them all).  

For my movie from the library this week (it was from two weeks ago, actually, as I forgot to get one this week, and had to return two the last time I went over), was 2020's LAST CHRISTMAS.  I hadn't heard anything about this one, except that it stars Emilia Clarke and Henry Golding.  But wow.  It was directed by Paul Feig, who did BRIDESMAIDS, but also did the GHOSTBUSTERS remake*, and it had the well, daring audacity/poor taste of featuring George Michael songs all throughout the picture. 

It's about this girl Kate who is described as the most selfish woman in the world, who works in an all-year Christmas shop, and meets this dude named Tom who is a manic pixie dream boy, but pops in and out of her life like he's on furlough from the military or a nearby prison.  But he teaches her to care about others, and be less self-centered, I guess, and dude, the George Michael songs . . . you don't know how many times I had to pause the movie, get up, and go do some more editing, write in my blog, or simply sit on the toilet as a release from it.

I had to stop watching for a good hour after the "Dawson's Creek" moment, where the male lead tells the girl he has something to tell her, and she jumps to conclusions, accuses him of being afraid of commitment, and walks off, and he just stands there, shaking his head, letting her go, even though she's wrong.  If there's a person alive who hates that trope more than me, I will gladly give them my heart this Christmas.

By this point, I considered just quitting on the movie, because I recognized that it wasn't working, and there had been times when I thought, "Oh, this is just bad."  Took me probably four hours to watch a ninety minute movie.  And then, we get to the Shyamalan moment . . . and yikes, that just fell flat too.  I reeled, because it was almost shockingly bad.  Except that, I'd say, about a quarter to a third of the movie DID work, and had nice character moments from Michelle Yeoh and Emma Thompson, but man, the rest . . .

I'm not entirely regretful that I watched it.  Clarke is super pretty throughout most of it (I feel like they tried to plain her up from time to time, to mixed results), and I do like George Michael (or I did, before watching this).  You know what it felt like?  From time to time I will encounter these people who absolutely loathe LOVE, ACTUALLY.  They hate it, and consider it one of the worst flicks of the 21st Century.  And LAST XMAS is as if a group of those haters got together and decided to make a film parodying LOVE, ACTUALLY, only deliberately making it bad.  Except they were going off of a script by somebody who wasn't in on the joke, who had written something sincere and heartfelt, who ended up throwing themselves off a bridge the night of the premiere.  But hey, that's just me.

Or is it?  I can't wait to get back home and find out what kind of Rotten Tomatoes score this flick got.  If I had to guess, I'd say about a 34%.  We'll see.**

I did some editing, grabbed my exercise bike and went for it, riding a little over two miles, read a chapter of the Houdini book I'm nearly done with (it's not very good, but I still would love to see a movie about his friendship [and the falling out] with Arthur Conan Doyle one day), and then I started packing up.  If I leave now, it'll be nearly an hour earlier than last week.  Huh.

I wonder, the next time I hear Wham's Last Christmas, if I will remember this movie, and if I'll be tempted to turn it off.  Or simply shudder and go on with my day.

Arcove or Exercise: Both

*Hitler on a Hitachi, I hate it when people call remakes "reboots."  I hate it . . . so much.  Except GHOSTBUSTERS 2014 probably was a reboot, as they were starting a successful series over again, but still.

**Whoops, it got a 46%.  Guess more people enjoyed it than I thought.

8-17

 8-17

Something that has been a tradition for me since 2020 or so is to drive to the dam and take a look at my texts and email, after having run the length of it and back, of course.  Today marks the first time (except the time it was pouring rain) where I'm considering not going.  I just have so much editing to do (halfway through an "Arcove's Bright Side" chapter, I realized I had opened TWO chapters at the same time, and was pasting the edited bits into the wrong chapter.  Whoops), and wasted a full hour reading a 1966 horror story with two British accents and an Italian one (which struck me as particularly bothersome when she winds up speaking Spanish at the end.  Whoops again), which I probably will never use.  

And now the sun's getting real low, Big Guy, and I can't decide what to do.  I have my exercise bike, if I want to get some exercise, but . . . ah okay, I guess I'll go, if only to run and ask Marshal if he wants to watch VALERIAN AND THE CITY OF A THOUSAND MONKEYS with me.

I got this idea tonight, sort of a Hallmark Bullshit Of The Week movie idea, where these people all get off a bus in a little, isolated, idyllic town, and find themselves . . . well, who gives a bung what brought them there (job offer?  Mysterious letter?  AIDS?), but they find themselves . . . running into someone who is perfect for them, and start falling in love, like it's the bleedin' Love Boat, only docked in an out-of-the-way village.  Let's say there are, I dunno, eight people, and each one just happens to pair off with someone from their group.  It's so wonderful, just imagine it for a moment--I like you, you like me, and neither of us can think of a single reason why we shouldn't be together . . . and is that music playing somewhere?  Smooch, smooch, I am so happy, Arthur, and finally my life is complete, Jessica.  But wait a minute, what are the chances that each of us, three men and five women ('cause you gotta have lesbians, kids, to keep this off my mom's television set), all happened to fall for somebody who got off that bus on Friday?  And nobody's lonely, nobody's unwanted, nobody's going to bed with blue, swollen gonads.  Isn't that awfully convenient?  Like, suspiciously so?

If I were a real writer (I say all the time, and will continue to say, just try to stop me), I would call the story "Some Enchanted Evening" (or, if I were really good at my job, "You Will Meet A Stranger"), and get to work on it soon, so I could have it out for Valentine's Day.*  I ended up writing 1260 words on it, fairly late at night.

Arcove or Exercise: Both (and Writing)

*By the way, I hope to die on February 14th one day.  Because f**k Valentine's Day.

8-16

The month is half over already.  Welcome to Hell, kids.

I finished the book I was reading and started on a new book, "Straight Man" by Richard Russo, which I grabbed from the library because I heard AMC is making a show out of it next year with Bob Odenkirk.  I'll let you know how it goes.

Wolfgang Petersen died today.  He directed AIR FORCE ONE, DAS BOOT, OUTBREAK, and one of my childhood favorites, ENEMY MINE.*  For years, he had been attached to an adaptation of "Old Man's War" by John Scalzi.  But that's not going to happen now.

Today, my fourteen year old nephew was yelling at my five year old nephew, because he couldn't find his phone.  "What did you do with it?  Where did you put it?" he was screaming.  I was in the middle of recording a chapter of Abbie's book**, but I got up and left my room to yell back, "I will chuck this thing out into the street; you gave the phone to me to charge!"  Parenting must be fun.

That is all.

I sat down and watched the last episode of "Better Call Saul" today.  As usual, the show was pretty corpulent, but well-acted and well-directed, and I'm sorry to see it go. 

682 words today on "Balms & Sears."  And my goodness, I am close to the end.  I'm up over 66,000 words (in fact, if I had tried just a little bit harder, I could've reached 66,666 tonight.  Darn).  I really, really need to go through and give it a polish, try and make it a little less rambly (there are characters who show up, are in a couple of scenes, and then are gone again, until it ends, and I don't think you're supposed to do that, regardless of how they handle it on "Better Call Saul").  But I'm really just aiming at being done, so I can sigh and say, "Okay, now on to something else."

Soon.

Arcove or Exercise: Arcove (and Writing)

*He also directed THE NEVERENDING STORY, but . . .

**Oh, that means the altercation was recorded for posterity, goodie!

8-13 to 8-15

 8-13

No library, so no writing.  But what the hey, I'm never gonna achieve nothing with my writing anyway.*

So, actress Anne Heche was involved in a spectacular (as in, "dramatic" and "astounding," not the other use of the word) car accident, and suffered burns so severe that she was comatose, and eventually pronounced brain dead.  And several nice tributes came out to her, including one that an acquaintance posted on Facebook . . .

. . . but between you and me, he misspelled Anne's name . . . and it was a photo of Ellen DeGeneres.

And either nobody noticed, or nobody had the heart to correct him.

*I mean, think about it.  Let's say I finished "Balms & Sears" this month.  I would have to do a second draft (or if I was particularly lazy), just record the audio straight off the first draft.  Then edit the audio, and get Audible to pass it.  The soonest I would ever get it out would be, what, this time next year but more probably, 2024.  And then it sells, what, six or seven copies?  You know...

8-14

This afternoon, I went to my Aunt Blanca's house for dinner.  My Uncle John started talking about Las Vegas mafia stories, and I just ate it up.  His kids kept interrupting, bored A.F. (as they say), but I was pretty riveted.  The man has seen some things.

By the way, "bhunder" is not a word.

Arcove or Exercise: Arcove

8-15

As I was approaching the library today, I saw the blind Asian guy that I see here about once a week (I gave him a ride once, and when I asked him where he was from, he refused to tell me), and since my windows were already down, I nearly shouted, "Hey, blind Chinese guy, how you doing?!?"

But then I thought, Gee, what if that offended him?  I better not.  I mean, what if he's Korean?  So, I didn't.

Shoot, I can't remember if I mentioned this or not, but Big posted the final Dunesteef episode (it's at THIS LINK), and with that, the lights have gone out.  So strange.

I took a half hour or so to record my own thoughts on the passing of the show, and I will crowbar that into the next episode of the Rish Outcast I release, along with a few tepid words about my book "Hatchling."  I'll take a cue from Big's new handbook and try and get it out there as soon as I can.

What have I done?  With my life?  Well, I wasted an hour here at the library, probably managing about 280 words, the rest of the time spent on the internet, and doing "research" on Wikipedia.

Yeah, it's a waste of time, but I wanted to make a reference to the Houston Texans football team, and for the reference to work, it had to be a year they were really good.  And those kind of things take time (although not nearly what they would've taken years ago, when someone would have to look up each detail, and every word I wanted a synonym to would've taken a detour into a thesaurus . . . shudder).

After the library, I knew Big and I were going to be recording together (just last week, we recorded the last episode of the Dunesteef, and he's already gotten it posted, and it's on to recording Anklecast episodes), but I knew I had just enough time to go on a run.

So I did, but wow, I am out of practice (and overweight), so I had to stop no less than three times during my run, and each time I stopped, my body said, "Ah, this is my cue to start sweating!" and so, when I'd start running again, the breeze always felt nice on my face.

Arcove or Exercise: Exercise (and Writing)

8-12

8-12

That deranged bastage Big Anklevich actually set up a Patreon fund for himself, after years of threatening.  My reaction was pretty subdued:

So, the guy has a Patreon, if you want to support him, over at THIS LINK.  Death be not proud, B.D. Anklevich.

I finally stuck the first two audio clips for "Arcove's Bright Side" in the Dropbox.  So that puts my graph at:

2 / 52

I went to the library, and only got 656 words, but that's totally fine.  I could've gotten more words, but I was reading about Anne Heche's car accident, her being declared brain dead, and a bunch of tributes that were coming in.  Ah well.

Back to "Balms & Sears."  I introduced a doctor at the end of the book, and asked Big what his name should be.  It took him a while to answer, so I named the character Doctor Thunder, which is the name of a Dr. Pepper knock-off I've seen on shelves (it might have been Shasta's version).  This was a couple of days ago.

Anyway, today I was finishing that scene, and as a joke, I had changed his name to Doctor Chunder.  What's worse, I had Searched and Replaced every version of Thunder and turned it into Chunder, which amuses me, but probably wouldn't work on you.

This is what came up when I searched for "chunder."  You're welcome.

Of course, the character is not comic relief, in a scene that's as serious as whatever's playing at two am on CSPAN, so I decided to change it again.  Feeling desperate, I asked the internet for another word that rhymes with thunder and chunder . . . and it suggested bhunder.*

So yeah, his name is now Doctor Bhunder.  Sigh.

Apparently, this is a real item you can buy.  Both online and in Hell.

They're doing their second announcement, and the woman saying, "The library will close..." sounded particularly pissy about it.  Guess I'll log off now.

Exercise or Arcove: Arcove (and Writing)

P.S. Actually, I liked my hair better in this picture, which I specifically took to send to Big if he ever did set up his Patreon:

*Now, you may claim that's really a word (and if so, good for you--spoken in Christian Bale's voice), but I'm going to agree to disagree with the internet, and we can just move on.

My Voice (and Big's) On Journey Into...

Marshal "George R.R." Latham has finally gotten out the winner of his "Journey Into... Journey" contest from a couple of years ago.  It's called "Backtalk" by R.C. Anderson, and is presented as an episode of a fictional podcast about interference on communications channels in old NASA missions.  

I got to perform the part of a retired astronaut, telling about a disastrous mission back in 1969.  I was described as having a Texan accent, but what I missed was that I was supposed to be in my eighties (whoops).  Nevertheless, the episode is excellent, and does fun stuff with the audio format, and also features Renee Chambliss's ever-hot voice, Big Anklevich's evergreen voice, Gino Moretto's crazy Kiwi accent, and Josh Roseman, who Big and I used to mock relentlessly back in the Dunesteef days.  and Josh Roseman, who Big and I used to mock relentlessly back in the Dunesteef days.  Check it out HERE.

8-11

I got a chapter done, and about half a Rish Outcast.  I was also listening to Marshal Latham's newest "Journey Into..." podcast, which made me excited to write stories and produce them in audio (that reminds me, I ought to write up a post about it, since I do a voice in it).

I watch a DVD every time I come here, and today's pick was 1951's THE DAY THE EARTH STOOD STILL.  Unfortunately, I remembered it well enough from the last time I saw it (which by my memory was early 2000) that I just switched it over to the audio commentary, by Robert Wise and Nicholas Meyer (directors, oddly enough, of the first and second "Star Trek" movies).  It did, I must admit, make me curious about the more recent remake (with Keanu Reeves and Jennifer Connelly), and I thought I might check that out, if I can find it on streaming or the library.  How bad could it be?

Every time I come to the cabin, I drive over to the dam, and force myself to run from one side of it to the other.  It has become yet another tradition for me.  I also check my messages and sometimes try to watch YouTube videos from the tiny spot of wi-fi accessibility on top of it.  Because it's so hard to find, in June, I drew a line in the gravel to mark where to stand, and frequently use it as a finish line when I'm running (by the time I'm on my way back, I'm usually so out of breath and desperate to lie down that I need the psychological push of a visible marker.

Each week, I stand there, try to get a signal, and use my tennis shoes to redraw the line a little deeper.

But what's weird is, I go there every Wednesday, and every Wednesday, the line is either filled in by wind, half washed away by water, or in this week's case, completely re-covered by human hands (or most likely feet).  Somebody has seen what I've done and says, "I see your evil-doing, and it is my job to oppose you."  Next time, I need to remember to bring a shovel and a can of spray paint.

Here, let me try that graph thing I mentioned yesterday:

0 / 52

Pretty ugly, but hey, it gets the point across.

I finally sat down and forced myself to create the art for the cover of my story "But Now I'm Found."  Now I just have to tape it to a powerline or lamppost and take a picture.

Oh, and write an author's note.  I meant to do that on Wednesday.*  I think that, every day of my adult life, I have said or thought the words, "I meant to do that ____."  I won't miss me when I'm gone.

Arcove or Exercise: Both

*Are you a writer?  Do you like writing Author's Notes?  Does it bring you pleasure or pain to think back on the origins of stories or books, and your feelings now that they're done?  What if you're like me and you go, "Huh.  I don't remember where this came from.  But I must've written it, since it has my name on it."

8-10

At the cabin again, and the first thing I did was sit down to edit a chapter of "Arcove's Bri--"

But the sound had gone out on my laptop again.  Oh, goody.  Now, I'd say there's an 85% chance that the sound will come back if I just reboot my system (perhaps even 95%), but I have many, many tabs open, some including stories I'd planned to record (I've got two different podcasts that want narrations and two audio dramas that want character lines [one is over a month overdue]), as well as several articles I'd been planning to read sometime.  It is irritating, but a choice has to be made.

Well, I had two scripts I could record, and read more articles than I should have, and even wrote a bit for "Balms & Sears" which was inspired by the story Big Anklevich is doing on his solo podcast next month.*  But now, before the sun goes down, I have to restart the system, so I can get some of Abbie's chapters edited.

I think I mentioned that CatsCast asked me to do another story for them.  Well, I sat down and recorded it.  It was written by Rati Mehrotra, and honestly, the story was as good as the author's name was hard to pronounce.

I had this idea the other day, to keep myself (and only possibly you) entertained, that I would count all the chapters/sections in the book, and keep track of how many of them I had completed, to see how close I was to done with the project.  There are fifty-two segments, which is an easy to remember number, and I'll ask Marshal if he can give me a status bar I can paste into these posts, to demonstrate my progress.

As of tomorrow (if I remember to stick them in the Dropbox), I'll have completed two of the fifty-two (granted, these are two of the, probably, four easiest bits in the whole book, them being the title and the Introduction, but hey, those need to be recorded (and edited) too.

I edited a chapter and man, is it tedious!  Reading the story was easy, performing the story was precise and complicated, but editing the story is arduous, time-consuming, misery.  

I'm reminded of a podcaster I knew who would record their audio, and then outsource it to an engineer to do all the editing, clean-up, and mixing, and I used to say, "That's like one of those dudes that has a girl in every port, knocks them up, and then never sees them again, because they're on to a new one."

Arcove or Writing or Exercise: All Three

*Because I restarted the system, there was no way to find out my word count for the day, but I checked it weeks later, and today's count was 805 words.

8-6 thru 8-9

8-6

I went on a hike with various members of my family today, and even though I left to get there at the time we were supposed to meet, I still was the second one to arrive.  We walked around in the mountains, then drove to a lake, where those of us still with energy walked around it as well.

There was a very small waterfall at the top of a trail, and people lost their minds and stood under it.  I had a bit more self-control, and got a picture in front of it.

I could've hung out longer (there were squirrels and chipmunks that weren't very afraid of people, and we kept throwing them peanuts and pretzels and Valtrex, and I could've watched that for another hour or two), but some folks were tired and had things to do, so I drove back down the canyon by myself, then stopped at my sister's to mow her lawn, then went home, showered waaaaaaay too long (my feet were so caked in mud, we'll probably have to have the bathtub burned), then ran to the library to get some writing done.  And now I'm typing this (and some stuff for yesterday) instead of writing.  Silly me.

Only got 570 words.  But I was really enjoying it when they did the announcement.  Would've gotten double that with an extra fifteen minutes.

This is just a picture of the folliage that I thought looked cool.  If I had time, I'd stick a "Where's Waldo?"-type cameo in it.

Audiobook or Writing or Exercise: All Three

8-7

I went to the movies (to see BULLET TRAIN) with my cousin last night.  It was a lot of fun.  There was also a trailer for a movie called SMILE that was so terrifying, they had to hose off my seat mid-way through the Coke commercial.

I also took an hour or so to record two more chapters of the audiobook.  I'm starting to worry that my voice for Halvery is indistinguishable from my voice for Lyndi.  But maybe I'm being too self-critical, since Abbie tends to write, "said Halvery" and "Lyndi asked," which should help.

Audiobook or Writing or Exercise: Audiobook

8-8

I have been forcing myself to sit and record at least one chapter of "Arcove's Bright Side" each night.  At this rate . . . well, I'll still finish it sometime in 2024, but I'm trying.

Got a chapter of Arcove in, then did a chapter of "But Now I'm Found" (just to switch things up) and that gave me 301 words.

I also went for a run, promising myself some pineapple sherbet as a reward afterward.

Arcove or Writing or Exercise: All Three

8-9

I mostly worked today, though I did take the kids to a stream to catch minnows for a half hour.  It's that time of the year where there are simply thousands of tiny fish, and they're easy to catch.

I haven't been to the library in a few days, and that's when I tend to do my blogging.  Today, I worked on "The Washer Whispers," managing 637 words, while earlier in the day, I sat down and recorded the last chapter of "But Now I'm Found"*, which came to 114 words.  

My heart's not really in the writing right now, but I remember somebody somewhere saying that, when the whole book is done, you won't be able to tell which bits were written when you were excited and the words were really flowing, and which bits were absolute torture to get out, with absolutely no inspiration.  We'll see.

Arcove or Writing or Exercise: Arcove & Writing

*It was a really weak chapter, making me question the whole endeavor.  But what can you do?

Rish Outcast 227: Caller I.D. (1)

Rish presents the first installment of his (hopefully) annual "Caller I.D." series, only about a decade late!  

When young Chad Kluchar gets a mysterious call on his new cellphone, he has no idea the person on the other end is familiar to him . . . shockingly familiar.

If you would like to download the episode, Right-Click HERE.

If you would like to support me on Patreon, click HERE.

Logo by Gino "Caller NZ" Moretto.

Blog 8-5

8-5

I'm at the library now, not to write, but to burn copies of my uncle's funeral onto CDs.  Each one takes approximately six minutes to burn . . . so I might as well write something, no?

A super old guy just walked past with a book about Iwo Jima in his hands.  My first inclination was to tell him that I was there, and that I still remembered the moment the island came into vie--

No, wait, that was a movie.

It was my Uncle Len's birthday, and a bunch of people got together to remember him (apparently, he had expressed hope that he could have a big birthday get-together, complete with a Mariachi band, when he was hospitalized last year), and somebody paid a Mariachi band to play to our little group.  It was really strange, but hey, it was neat to get together with family members, especially those that drove all the way down from Las Vegas.

Sorry, this is another of those days where I simply don't want to be here.  I keep putting in CDs, getting an error (that they are damaged or unwriteable), then I take them out, put them back in, and they burn fine.  But it's a lengthy process of about six minutes each, once they start to burn.  It's not a big deal, but I sat here for an hour and a half, and wrote a couple hundred words (turned out it was 853), and I think that's what I'll stick with.  Maybe tonight I can record a chapter or two.

I was determined for "Arcove's Bright Side" to be my absolute best work, and for listeners to be positively orgasmic (figuratively or literally) over my performance.  Of course, that's setting myself up for disaster, but hey, you do you.

I actually did some serious recording on the book, but found that, unlike a professional audiobook narrator, who probably puts in six to ten hours in a day*, my voice was absolutely, completely, and totally shot halfway through the third chapter.  Despite having "rehearsed" the book so it could go faster, there was one character who I simply couldn't figure out how to voice, and decided to just mark his lines in yellow and go back to them once I remember the way I'd done it before (my notes were "has a Northern accent, from back of the throat," which SHOULD have been enough).  The character of Arcove has been fun and easy to voice in the past, but I found myself coughing after practically every one of his lines, which means I might have to redo those too.  And you think Abbie's a perfectionist . . .

Audiobook or Writing or Exercise: Audiobook & Writing

*Of course, I have no idea.  It may be far less than that, as we are dealing with human beings here.